


hook, line and sinker

by popPulchritude



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popPulchritude/pseuds/popPulchritude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was different from the regulars. For one thing, the regulars in the Steamy Frigate were often middle-aged men with little self-respect and a lot of money to burn.</p><p>She was in her mid-twenties, magnetic and attractive in her overpriced business student uniform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hook, line and sinker

**Author's Note:**

> based off this modern au my friends and i made: http://poppulchritude.tumblr.com/post/34034881713/what-happens-when-i-make-a-plurk-about-leliana

She was different from the regulars. For one thing, the regulars in the Steamy Frigate were often middle-aged men with little self-respect and a lot of money to burn.  
  
She was in her mid-twenties, magnetic and attractive in her overpriced business student uniform. She looked like an angel, but Isabela knew she was no saint. She snapped her parents’ money in the girls’ g-strings, and drank and hollered with the best of them. She even threw inappropriate advances at Fenris, Isabela’s bouncer and sometimes lover, whose face grew crimson and asked her politely through gritted teeth to stop disturbing him. Marian Hawke came in one day and rocked the club’s foundation, until she was as familiar as the floor and the wallpapers.

Rarely did a person interest Isabela, but whenever that happened, she pursued them. She knew what she wanted. She thought it was high-time she bought her a drink.  
  
Tuesday night was cage night. According to Varric – he and Hawke developed a bromance under Isabela’s nose somehow – come hell or mid-terms, the woman never missed cage night. As predicted, she showed up, high fiving a couple people on the way in and sat in her regular place. Isabela slipped into the chair next to her, placing two beers on the table. Hawke smiled at her and slinked an arm around her shoulders. She thought Isabela was one of the strippers! How precious.  
  
“Word backstage says you’re  _something_.”  
  
Hawke laughed. “Usually the vags are reserved to the strippers, so it’s not hard to stick out.” She scanned the men in the establishment, sitting around their chairs with sweaty fingers and tight pants. “Not like them, though.”  
  
“Not just that. They say you drove Crystal home when she signed off really late –”  
  
“I’ve always liked Crystal.”  
  
“—and took down a thug that tried to molest Candy.”  
  
“As a general rule, any creeper that tries to force themselves on a person deserves a steel pipe to the groin.”  
  
Isabela laughed. Oh, she really liked her. “I should put that up as a sign.”  
  
“Varric’s already working on it.”  
  
“Of course he is. You… go out of your way to help my girls, and I like that.” Isabela extended a hand for a handshake. “Isabela. I’m the Steamy Frigate’s owner.”  
  
“Oh – oh shit.” Hawke retracted her hand, looked down at Isabela’s hand and awkwardly shook it. “So that’s why you never danced on-stage.”  
  
“It’s true. I get my kicks out of dressing up like a slutty pirate.”  
  
“Slutty pirate’s a good look for you.”  
  
“Aw. You’re sweet. You know…” Isabela tucked a lock of Hawke’s hair behind her ear. “If you’re ever in need of some company later, I’ll be in my office.”  
  
Hawke watched her go, eyes wide with surprise and interest. Isabela chuckled to herself.  
  
 _Hook, line and sinker._  
  
\--  
  
“Did you know I was once married?” Isabela asked out of the blue, taking a deep huff of her cigarette. Hawke propped herself up with an elbow and swatted out sweat-drenched hair from her face, the blanket sliding down to her hips. Hawke wore her skin naturally, without shame or reservation, and Isabela liked that.  
  
“I could never imagine that. Your waistline is way too small.”  
  
Isabela laughed and swatted her absently. “Well, it’s not like I was allowed to let myself go. I was his plaything, a prize possession. Nothing more than one of his precious vases and trophies, kept clean and safe and gorgeous lest lose all my meaning.” Her eyes scanned the ceiling to search for words to describe how her past tasted in her tongue. It wasn’t bitter. No, time has dampened the strength of the taste. It was...  _something_. “The day Zevran shot that bastard between the eyes was the happiest day of my life.”  
  
Hawke usually had a charming thing to say, but today, she was silent. Instead, she crawled on top of Isabela and slid the blanket off, her fingers tracing familiar places of her body like the lines of a map outlining the course for buried treasure.  
  
\--  
  
Isabela inspected the bottle in her hand. It was one of those ship-in-a-bottles and, from the looks of it, carefully handmade and overly expensive. Isabela cringed. Hawke’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline.  
  
“What’s wrong? I thought you were into the whole pirate thing.”  
  
“No, I am but what is it for? It’s not my birthday. And I haven’t seen Reindeer-themed shit yet, so it’s probably not Christmas.”  
  
Hawke looked at her incredulously. “Can’t a girl buy another girl something shiny and pretty?”  
  
It was the age-old symphony Isabela conducted since she hit puberty. She would sleep with someone and then, eventually, they would fall for her and the minute they end up with a label, they got their hearts crushed into pulp. She didn’t want to do that to Hawke. She was…  _something_.  
  
She didn’t want her to leave, either. Isabela shook her head and tucked the bottle into her purse. “It is incredibly adorable. I’m going to hang it over my bedpost.” They exchanged smiles. Isabela winked. “Try not to smash it when you come over to my place.”  
  
\--  
  
Hawke was on her bed, doing homework. She chewed the end of her pen whenever she got stuck and rolled around whenever she got bored.  
  
As a general rule, Isabela only went over to other people’s houses at some ungodly hour of the night to have sex and snuck away when morning came. For some reason, tonight, she had dinner with the Hawkes – dinner! No matter how much she liked sweet Bethany and irate Carver, she never had dinner in other people’s homes. It was like Hawke made it a point to make her break every single rule she established throughout life.  
  
“Isabela,” Hawke called out from the bed, snapping Isabela out of her train of thought. “You said you were married. What about love?”  
  
“What _about_ love? I don’t love anymore. I fuck.”  
  
“Anymore? So you have loved?”  
  
Clever, like always. “Sure I have. After my marriage ended, I fell in love with a man at NYC. He was amazing. I would’ve done anything for him, if he hadn’t…”  
  
“Hadn’t what?”  
  
“Proposed to me. I don’t want to be tied down anymore.”  
  
Hawke looked at her with pity. Isabela decided that was her least favorite look on her. “I would never do that to you.”  
  
Hawke enveloped her hand around hers and looked into her eyes. Isabela saw icy blue, but there was warmth behind them. Hawke had her hook, line and sinker.  
  
 _Shit_.   
  
\--  
  
“I have never seen you so smitten before,” Fenris pointed out. He was over at Isabela’s bar, stark naked and pouring himself another glass of wine. The lines of his tattoos were hypnotic, accentuating the curves of his muscles. Voyeurism never hurt anybody.  
  
“I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
“I mean Hawke,” he said, subtlety lost and blunt as a hammer, as always. “You smile whenever she’s mentioned.”  
  
Isabela wiped the smile off her face and rolled her eyes. “The sex is amazing.”  
  
“That is all?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“…I don’t know! Don’t you have a window to brood at?”  
  
“I don’t brood.”Fenris tasted his wine and reclined on a chair. It looked like brooding to her. “Do not squander this opportunity. Neither of you are going to live forever.”  
  
“Since when are you dispensing advice now?”  
  
“I only have your best interests in mind.” For some reason, he could say anything in his voice and it would sound sagely. He gulped down his wine, handsomely. Isabela covered her face with her hands, exasperated.  
  
\--  
  
They ran and ran and ran, far away from the crime scene so the police would never catch them. Isabela looked back at the burning wreckage of Castillon’s home. She hoped that bastard woke up a pile of ashes.  
  
Face flushed and sweat drenched, Hawke was enticing under the moonlight. Isabela grabbed her face and kissed her desperately, hungrily, adrenaline pulsing through their veins. When their lips parted, gasping for air, Isabela said, “I think I’m falling for you.”  
  
Hawke smiled cheekily and kissed her again.


End file.
